


As You Command, Ser

by reinadefuego



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Het, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, community: mmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: Where else could a woman find privacy at Winterfell but in the room of Sandor Clegane?





	As You Command, Ser

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between 8x02 and 8x03.

"You're a big cunt, aren't you?" he growled in her ear, hand splayed on her belly and dick firm against her arse. "A big cunt who likes a good fucking."

Sandor liked watching, and listening. All those groans, the wet messy noises that came from Brienne getting off with her fingers, he enjoyed it all. Given they were going to die soon enough, what did honor matter anymore? Here in Winterfell, there was little to do but prepare and wait, and fuck.

Seated between his bent legs, her fingers sliding up and down over herself, Brienne pushed back against him and raised her hips. Her left hand was tangled in his hair, grip tight so she could tug his head down when she wanted something more than just his skin on hers.

If there was one place in Winterfell where a woman could have privacy, it was the small room Clegane had claimed as his own. Neither the old gods, the new, or the Lord of Light disturbed this space, and Sandor was more inclined to shut his mouth when told to do so than others.

"Clegane," she hissed between groans as she slid her fingers into her core, curling them against that rough spot. Sparks began to dance across her vision and pressure built in her belly, each stroke drawing orgasm closer. "If you've got something to say then spit it out."

"I've a big tongue that's perfect for big cunts." Sandor rested his hand on top of hers, fingers grazing her skin, moving with each thrust. Her short gasping moans and quick tugs on his hair told him she was close — close enough she was likely soaked down there already. "And once you've come all over yourself, I'm going to use it to make you scream so loud they'll hear you in Tarth."

One last stroke and she spilled against her fingers, come dripping through the gaps and landing on the bedsheets. She groaned and collapsed against him, shivering and dropping her hand from his head. "Perhaps you should get on with it then," Brienne said. "We only have till morning."

Sandor dipped his fingers into her throbbing wet mess of a cunt and smiled. Her own fingers were glossy with her juices, thighs shiny and damp. Oh yes, he'd enjoy lapping it up with his tongue and licking her clean, and the look on her face when she turned to kiss him said she would to. "As you command, Ser."


End file.
